The Courage to Become | Kim Pena
The “Courage to Become” is such an all-encompassing subject. When I first brainstormed this I thought of things I had “become.”
From a daughter-->friend-->educator-->wife-->mother-->strong woman the list was long but not super interesting. I reached out the Catia and she asked me a simple but powerful question, “What do you feel has been the most difficult for you? What were you most scared of?” I almost immediately responded but then I just sat back and really reflected for a few days because as an adult not much scares me, but that has by no means always been the case.
How did I go from a child who was scared of even speaking to a woman who not only finds strength in herself but works hard to surround herself with a village with other strong and amazing women?
On being young and scared
When I was young I was scared of everything. I don’t know if it was being the youngest child with an older brother who liked to pick on me or watching America’s Most Wanted (John Walsh gave me nightmares for years) but I was afraid of a lot. I grew up with a speech impediment and so I was always on guard. Over time I became not only scared of how I said things but of what I said. I spent my life trying to be who I thought people wanted me to be. I was most afraid of being myself.
I learned early on how to play a role. With friends and even with family I wasn’t fully me, I worked hard to be who I thought they needed or who they wanted me to be.
I learned pretty early on how to manipulate a false connection. I’m not proud, but it’s true. I let people see sides of me, maybe a dramatic side, maybe a loving side, maybe an intellectual side, maybe sometimes a mean side but never authentic me. I sat in fear that that they might figure me out and judge me or worse, hate me.
As a young woman I held my tongue and told myself that it was a good thing. That if I didn’t say certain things I was being strong and picking my battles – but really I was just holding myself in because I was scared.
I was scared of being wrong, scared of being judged, and sometimes even scared of being right.
The only person who I was completely myself around was my mother. I honestly wanted to meet and exceed any goals she had for me but not because I felt pressured. She was the source of love and strength for me. If I have any goals for myself as a mother it is to make my children feel as comfortable with me as I have always felt with her.
On growing up and finding authenticity
During my senior year of college I went to Austin to find a job.
I wanted to move and get clean break from everyone. I had lived by myself once in college (and even though it was a bad part of town and I almost froze to death) it was exhilarating and I couldn’t wait to do it again.
After I landed in Austin, I had coffee with a guy and I tried my basic first date formula, i.e. ask questions all about them, but it failed. He was the first person who saw through all my bullshit and asked me questions that really made me search for honest answers and then challenged me to defend my answers. So, I decided to try something radically different – I tried to be authentic. I spent time on my own and got to really know myself. And while not everyone was happy with the new me, I was able to form some of the most genuine friendships of my life.
Being authentic was definitely harder than I thought. There were still people in my life that I was terrified would judge me. There were people I loved -- and I really wanted to be who they wanted me to be – but it never quite worked. It is so difficult to reflect on whether the choices you have made are your own or someone else’s expectation of you. It is even harder to accept that the choices weren’t yours and aren’t something you wanted or are particularly happy with. The reality is that when you find courage to challenge the people in your life to get to know the authentic you, you can’t control the outcome.
I was heartbroken over some outcomes and relieved at others but either way my fear melted away and I emerged stronger.
On continuing to evolve
I have discovered the truth in the proverb that change is the only constant. In the last decade, everything about me has changed.
And as I grew so did my drive, my empathy, my capacity to love, and my self-will. I give as many chances as people need. I accept and still love those who don’t like me or still see me as the person I once was. I don’t judge, I embrace. I do everything I can to empower other women. I have friends who don’t agree with me on everything and yet we engage in respectful conversation and I adore them. I cherish my family. I make sure every day that my children and husband are loved and appreciated. I don’t hold my tongue, but I listen humbly.
Ladies, if you don’t have the courage to let your voice be heard and become strong enough to speak for yourself then you’ll never be heard. If you don’t love enough to listen, then nothing can ever be fixed.
If I could leave you with one discovery, it would be --
I have become strong not because I let someone in, but because I learned to let myself out.
And that same power, is waiting for you. -Kim
Essay by: Kim Pena
Don't you love Kim's story of how she moved from fear to power?! I was definitely inspired!
For more of Kim and to say Hello :) , head on over to:
The Hill Country Woman / FB/TheHillCountryWoman / Insta-TheHillCountryWoman
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Alexis Edwards
I am thrilled to have the opportunity to participate in a collaborative series dreamed up by the amazingly talented Catia Holm. Catia is a mama, writer, speaker and all around badass lady who is passionate about inspiring authenticity and teaching others how to flourish.
Catia’s “Courage to Become” series features women from all walks of life with uniquely inspiring stories on how they garnered the courage to BECOME. Women blazing their own trails despite fear and doubt so they could BECOME the women they are truly meant to be. The series will highlight and celebrate each woman’s journey and I’m overjoyed that Catia invited me to join the group!
When Catia reached out, I was honestly like, "Huh? Me? I’m boring." But I think that might also be the point. Navigating womanhood can be brutal. Expectations are high, judgments are common, and self-esteem is a journey all its own. To combat that, we need community and we need to know that our voice matters. We need to be told and understand that our purpose is unique and absolutely attainable despite our fears and doubts.
I think many of us truly struggle to become. When I looked up the definition, I found the meaning “begin to be”. To be or not to be, that is the question, right? It certainly has been for me. My life has been a series of inner dialogues about whether or not to begin and while it’s never easy to take the plunge, each new beginning has helped shape me into the woman I am today.
I haven’t lived the easiest life. I was born to very young parents who raised me in a blended and messy shared custody battle ground. My mother struggled with mental illness, substance abuse and I moved from one city to the next as she chased her broken dreams. We didn’t live in one place for longer than a year or two and my life felt completely nomadic. I yearned for normalcy and endlessly hoped for freedom from the roaming chaos.
While not the nuclear family of my peers, my imperfectly disordered upbringing is exactly where everything about my personality was born. It was the beginning of my becoming. I was forced into a life of independence and resilience and quickly learned how to take charge and meet the needs of others. All of which led me to the career path I’m still walking today.
Since before I can remember, I always wanted to be a helper of sorts, well there was that one time when I was four and wanted to be a ballerina trapeze artist, but other than that I wanted to be a vet, a doctor, a teacher, basically all the kickass people saving (or changing) lives.
It’s my theory that those of us that have been broken are pulled into roles of mending and helping and will continuously do everything in our power to bring things (or people) back into wholeness. And that’s exactly what I did.
I came “home” to Louisiana for undergrad, desperate to dig roots, to be still. I thought, “This is where I will stay forever,” but turns out my wild heart needed more adventure. Despite my dad’s dismay, I did not end up going to medical school, I mean math is hard, but I did discover a calling that allowed me to not only heal my own pain, but to also channel it into serving others.
I applied to graduate school at the UT Austin School of Social Work and after visiting the campus felt an intense pull to stay, my first influential internal dialogue about becoming. What about my family and friends in Louisiana? What if I regretted it? What if I failed? But the thing I’ve learned time and time again, is that your gut is your truth.
Each time I’ve doubted or questioned or feared, I’ve closed my eyes and listened to my heart. Deep down, we all know what we need. We all know what is right or wrong or necessary. Our heart and soul whispers the answers into every part of our being. The problem is that we don’t trust ourselves enough to hold those truths steady.
Eventually I became a mother and realized that mothering was hard. I doubt myself daily and find myself frequently telling a friend, “Today I was a bad mom”. It’s as if the hard things, the struggles, make us feel like we are doing everything wrong. The truth that we are good and alive and doing our best – becomes unsteady -- because the pressure outside says darkness is bad. Failure is wrong. Losing isn’t right. But for me, it’s the things in my life that were all of it, the good, bad and ugly, that brought me the most joy --that made me grow and change and become more human. We can struggle and still be good.
My gut (truth) has never let me down. I followed my truth from grad school in Austin to an internship in South Africa and back again. I followed it again into marriage and motherhood. I followed it when leaving my career to stay home with my babies and I’m following it today as I embark on the journey to reignite my career all over again.
I still have zero clue what I’m doing, but I’m experiencing life. I’m trusting the process and listening to my heart every step of the way. I’m sitting with discomfort and fear and letting it guide me as I unearth the truth behind it all.
I think so often about HOW my children will become WHOLE. About how they can reach self-love and embrace their truth and I think the answer is in teaching them -- not so much about right from wrong -- but more about right and wrong. Strange and normal. Easy and hard. Sadness and joy. Fear and confidence. How the most dichotomous of experiences are actually immensely intertwined and living them together is the only way to authentically become.
Essay by: Alexis Edwards
“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”
~Frida Kahlo
Head on over to Birth 360 to get in touch with Alexis
And for a daily dose of FUNNY, REAL and SMART visit Alexis on her Instagram!
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I wrote a book - The Courage to Become, I speak - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
Sign up here
The Como Mamas
Originally published on 10-23-13
Sometime in mid-March, I was working at ACL and SXSW acts were rolling through the venue. The ticket for this particular night read, Soul Review. I thought, “Cool. I like soul music.” And I had a glimmer of hope that Justin Timberlake would swing by.
At 8pm when the house lights went down the venue only had about 100 people in it. It was a meager start to the night as the venue fits about 2700 music lovers. As I surveyed the crowd I thought, “Maybe Prince is playing down the street or something.”
I scanned the acts on the ticket and since I hadn’t heard of any of them, I didn’t pay much attention. As ACL spans four floors I spent a lot of my time running around chatting and checking with staff on each floor. As I was running around my boss, Tom asked “Have you been inside the venue yet? You’re going to love the act on stage.” As soon as I found a good breaking point I made my way inside the venue and was immediately blown away.
The room was dark and cold and filled with the unforgettable voices of The Como Mamas. As I surveyed the stage I thought, “Only three ladies, no instruments?” I had heard similar sounds from movie soundtracks before, but never in person. The group is made up of three lifelong Gospel singers from the small town of Como, Mississippi, and they were magnificent. Their voices cut straight through the fluff and went directly to my bones. Their voices were gripping. I was mesmerized. I inched my way toward the front of the stage and got lost in their voices. I took photos and videos but nothing compared to the real thing.
When their set was over and the crowd of what was now 200 people had finished applauding, I decided to make good use of my all access pass and go backstage to tell them how awesome they were.
I walked straight up to my favorite of the three singers, Ms. Ester Mae, and I introduced myself. “Hello, my name is Catia and I work here. I just wanted to tell you how powerful and impactful your performance was. Listening to your voices is very moving. Good luck with…” I thought it was be a quick congratulations and I’d be on my way. But before I turned away she grabbed my hands in hers.
We were outside her dressing room and folks were hurriedly working getting ready for the next band, but somehow all that faded away and I felt connected. I didn’t yet know what she was going to say, but I knew that I was going to pay attention.
My small soft hands sat in her encompassing rough hands. Her hands felt like they had been productive for decades. She was tall and was of bigger build and dressed in her Sunday best. Her long corn rows were pulled back in a ponytail and she was smiling so big I could see her gold capped teeth. No one would have questioned her being backstage but she was wearing her artist badge proudly.
Once my hands were in hers and our eyes locked she said, “Thank you so much for that. You know, I’m 62. They came into my church and discovered me 4 years ago. All my life I’ve been singing in the church, for the church and just now, my dreams are coming true. Tomorrow, they are taking me on a plane to New Orleans!” She was beaming. Ms. Ester continued, “I’ve been praying my whole life to God. You just keep working hard for what you want. Don’t lose faith in yourself or in God. When you’re ready, your dreams will find their way to you. Don’t be afraid of hard work.”
I was blown away by her words of wisdom. I knew that this was not an ordinary occurrence.
Ms. Ester definitely looked like she could cook a southern meal and give a great hug. And since we weren’t near a kitchen, I asked if I could give her a hug and she agreed. It was such a mama bear hug. I could feel her love even though she didn’t know me from Adam.
Did she know Guapo and I were about to hit a rocky patch? Did she know I was going to jump into writing full time? Did she know that I was training for a marathon? Did she know I was working two jobs and was really tired? There were so many balls in the air; I had no clue how life was going to be come May. How did she know I would need to hear her words? She didn’t, but God did.
God sent her to me to say, “Keep your head down, work hard and don’t lose faith.” The words, “I’m 62 and I’m just walking into my dream,” pop into my thoughts when I get impatient.
There are signs all around and they come to us in different packages. The universe is constantly talking to us, guiding us along. However, the signs from the universe won’t always be obvious, most times, they’ll be subtle. We have to be open and aware enough to receive them. We have to have open hearts, open minds and be quiet enough within ourselves to notice the messages.
If we are constantly numbing ourselves out with food, alcohol or even activity we will have a hard time reading the signs along the way, if we see them at all. James Earl Jones is not going to show up at our doors telling us what our next move should be, neither is the Wizard of Oz.
Some days a door will open and a door will close and that’s as much change that will happen. Some days there may be a road block along the way redirecting us, and some days the universe may send us Ms. Ester. Most times the signs are so small that we may not even give them any significance, but they are there. Pay attention.
Justin Timberlake was a no show that night, but I got something much better, a hug from Ms. Ester and a message from God.
Ms. Ester, may you continue to touch people’s souls the way you touched mine.
Words + Thoughts live
Originally published on 9-11-13
Words are everywhere. They come at as us from the TV, from the newspaper and from the radio. Media is just one medium, but there are countless others. Day to day interactions with family and friends and co-workers can be just as impactful. Over the years I have learned to be more discerning about the words I use and about the words that I let into my space, and it’s my days and nights so much happier.
Words and thoughts from TV
When Guapo and I started dating I avoided watching TV or movies where people were mean or unkind to each other. I started avoiding those subjects because I never wanted the following questions to come up, “Would you ever do that?” or “Have you ever…?” or “What would you do if…?” I didn’t want that junk, albeit fictional, entering into my subconscious, his, or ours. So we watched a lot of college football, comedy shows and happy romantic comedies. Finished were the days of “This is 40” or “The Five Year Engagement.” As funny as those types of movies seem, they’re simply negative wrapped in funny.
You’d think that when he’s not home, I’d turn it back to Real Housewives, right? Wrong. After one year of not being a regular viewer, I just can’t handle it anymore. Their voices sound like nails on chalkboard to me. I can literally feel their vile language invading my space. There are countless shows on TV where people are just down right mean to each other, there’s no value in watching it. Most times it’s like watching venom spew back and forth across the screen. “You’re a bitch! No, you’re a bitch!” This sounds extreme, I know. But once you start paying attention to how you feel AFTER you’ve finished watching an E! Entertainment News marathon, you’ll realize, it’s indifferent at best.
The other day we went to go see Woody Allen’s, Blue Jasmine. I was so pumped. I love a good movie with eye candy to boot! Forty five minutes in, I realized it was a downer! The characters were heavy and rude. I thought, “Do we stay and get our 20 bucks worth, or do we leave?” I tapped Guapo on the shoulder and he knew, he could feel it too. We left and were eating at one of our favorite hippie restaurants in no time. See ya later, Woody!
Words and thoughts from other people
About a month ago I walked into a boot repair shop in West Texas, and the owner, a lady in her mid-40s, was posted up behind a display counter. She greeted me and quickly proceeded to talk about being financially strapped and horses being slaughtered. She was clear in communicating to me just how much the world owed her. I thought, “Woah, lady. This is not the way to get me to come back here.”
There was a dark grey cloud looming over the boot shop and her negative words and vibe seemed to stick everywhere, like hot gum melted to the bottom of your shoe. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Thanks for the chat, see you …never.”
If someone’s talking about icky things, I try my best to exit as quickly as possible. If I can’t exit, I try to change the subject. There’s no added value to my life (or to theirs) if I’m listening to someone rehash how much paying taxes sucks or how much their ex-boyfriend sucks. I prefer the sunnier side of memory lane.
Our words and thoughts
We tell ourselves some crazy stuff. We say out loud about ourselves what we would never say about our friends. It’s like we expect ourselves to be a glossed up version of a woman. We are to have the brilliance of Tina Fey, the hotness of Beyonce, the tenderness of a pre-school teacher, oh yeah and after dark the fierceness of Rihanna. Are you kidding me? No. We (me included) can be cray, cray!
Yesterday I joked, “I haven’t gone to the grocery store! I’m not a good wife.” Or a few months ago as thoughts were bubbling up inside of me and I was resisting I said, “Maybe I’m not a good writer. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a writer.” Or, “I know that the pork chops I cooked for dinner aren’t the greatest, they’ll be better next time.” Or the classic, “She’s so pretty; she’s so much prettier than me.”
Thankfully, in my house, comments like that are usually cut off at the knees. “Don’t joke about that, you’re a great wife,” or “Stop. You are a good writer, but you are on a learning path,” or “There’s no self-hate in this house, we don’t allow it.” Dang! Even when I use self-deprecating humor to be funny, I get shut down! My house is better off that way.
The more we use these words, the more we tell ourselves that we are not enough, the worse off we are. Have you ever noticed that when you don’t weigh yourself every morning and you don’t obsess about the .5 pounds you’ve gained, you’re much happier (and just as hot!)
Words and thoughts are things. Be conscious of the words you use and the energy you are putting out there. Are you a glass half full kind of person, or are you a glass half empty kind of person, or are you a… gosh I wish I had a better glass kind of person? What message are your words and actions sending?
Be a positive force in the world and value your life enough to only surround yourself with the like.
26.2
Originally published on 6-2-13
Late February my brother, Carlos, and I were at my Sis’ birthday party and he said, “Hey I’m running a marathon in May,” and after having a few vodka martinis I said, “I will too!”
Half of me wanted to tackle a challenge, something way beyond my reach, something that I knew would take a good chunk of commitment, and the other half of me wanted to support him (at this point Carlos had lost 100 pounds and had been challenging himself physically and mentally in different ways), a little solidarity if you will.
I was not in real shape; I was what I call ‘gym fit.’ My clothes fit and I felt good about the way I looked but I had zero endurance.
So I decided to get with it and of course, started by buying new clothes and supplies!
The running coach fitting me for sneakers asked, “How many miles can you run now without stopping?” “8 miles,” I quickly replied. 8 miles was a total and complete lie, I hadn’t run 8 miles since 2011! Now scared I asked, “Do you think I can do this?” He answered seriously, “Absolutely, but you can’t skip a day of training. Most people train over 6 months.” I only had 9 weeks. Uh oh.
I Googled, sought advice from the fittest people I knew, bought cool running gear, downloaded songs, but there was no magic formula, no magic pill. No one offered the number to their blood doping connection. I was out of luck. I’d have to go it alone. I decided to forge ahead and I started to chip away at it.
My first long run was 8 miles and every Saturday after that I upped the mileage by 2. I ran 8, 10, 12, 14, 16 and 18! At 18 I thought, “Woah.” As I ran up the driveway after mile 18 I thought, “Ok. Now this is a lot.” I gingerly lied on the floor and got lost in the wooden beam above until I could move again.
One week later I ran the big kahuna, 20. 20 was my best run. I left the house on my own, knowing there would be no jam bands or spectators along the way, knowing there would be no aid or water stations, no one handing me half bananas to keep me going. It was only my carefully chosen shoes, my favorite Pandora rap station, my Gatorade and my inner voice. You see, I have the same chatter box that you have. The chatter box that tells you whether you can or you can’t. While I did experience things happening on the exterior: corner store activity, blessing the homeless man I ran by, running through plumes of cigarette smoke, watching the city busses stop and go and stop and go, I did not allow myself to sink into my negative chatter box. If I had, I would have never laced up my shoes in the first place. Who runs 20 miles on there on a volunteer basis? As negative thoughts would float in my head I would coach myself through by saying, “Nope, not now, negative chatter box, you can try to come back later.” All of a sudden the negative rhetoric was gone and in the moment I knew I could do it, because I already was. I was already at mile 16, what was another 4 miles?
Soon we were 2 weeks out I came down with a virus and my Dr. said, “Hey I know how hard you’ve trained but I can’t guarantee you‘ll be able to run.” With some certain attitude I replied, “Give me the meds, not running is not an option.” I had worked out 5 days a week, rain or shine, sick or tired. Nothing got in the way. I ate the right foods, drank the right fluids, passed up a tasty alcoholic beverage on many occasion because I knew my body couldn’t withstand it. Some head cold was not going to stop me.
She ended up seeing me again a few days after the marathon because I had a little GI tract bleeding from running- whoops.
For 9 weeks Carlos and I trained separately but cheered each other on in our own way, watched each other’s progress. Finally, race day was upon us. We woke up even before the roosters crowed, threw on our best battle gear and headed for the starting line. When we stepped out of our toasty warm car and into the race zone, it was 46 degrees. Icy.
The marathon we signed up for was the definition of low key. I’m not sure the casual Saturday morning trail runners even knew there were races being run. Folks were running 10ks, half marathons, full marathons and 50ks. Carlos and I ran with no promise of glittered good luck signs, fanfare or fancy refueling stations. The statement, we ran the most boring marathon possible, is not far off.
I was packed down with energy chews, electrolytes; a water bottle, my iphone and my ipod shuffle just in case my phone decided it didn’t have enough juice to go the distance with me.
Throughout the run I observed nature, thought about a new hair style, thought about cool posts for Facebook once I had finished, but then like a Mom is proud of her child, I started feeling proud of myself, so I got teary eyed and had to stop thinking about Facebook posts. Onward. I sang along with Jay Z, Ja Rule, J Lo and 50 Cent. I’m clearly stuck in 2001. I thought about how crazy the people who put on the marathon were. Instead of offering us Gatorade and orange slices, they offered us Rootbeer and Oreos. With each lap the sun came out more and with each lap I peeled off layers of clothing. In the middle of the third lap I felt my face flush and my head heat up and I thought, “What’s going on here? Oh, I’m overheating. Whoopsie daises, better not let that happen.”
It warmed up to 65 degrees by the time we were on mile 24, when Carlos and I met up on the trail. We changed our individuals running paces and joined up, and decided to run the last few miles together. No winner, no loser, but together. Here we were, months and weeks and hours and hours of training later, together. Knowing there would be a camera we gave our best Hernandez smile and sprinted across, we probably looked a little more energetic than we actually were. We may have even had a little juice left for crossing the finish line at mile 26.2. We crossed, high fived, looked around for some fanfare, but there was none to be had, so we took a moment for ourselves, packed up and went home.
Carlos finished because he told himself he could. I finished because I told myself I could. There was no magic pill for either of us, no super-secret way to get through it, no back door way to get a marathon medal. All it took was a little courage.
Never underestimate the power of courage. It takes courage to set a goal and grind away at it.
You are capable of so much more than you give yourself allowance for. Don’t be afraid to reach just beyond your grasp. I believe in you.
Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable
Originally published on 2-21-13
A few weeks ago I joined a new fancy gym and thought there was no question I’d be in the top 10% of the fitness level. I mean, I practice yoga, I‘ve run races, cycled in races, run 10ks in my sleep, I’m a Tough Mudder for crying out loud! I got this! No problem!
So I looked over the class schedule and decided the first class I would take was Total Conditioning. I showed up to class, assessed the room and the people in the room and assumed my space in the front row.
It’s probably not a surprise that I spend most of my life in both the literal and hypothetical front row. I’ve always wanted to learn and inch forward and improve, even in something as trivial as gym class.
It was a noon class and I looked around at thought, “don’t these people work?” Then I thought, “alright Instructor Jodi, let’s see what you’ve got.” Kayne was blaring in the background and we were movin’ and grovin’. Side steps, pump those arms, add a hop, and keep it moving! 300 seconds into the warm up, I thought, “Oh shit, Jodi’s going to whoop me!” My heart rate was at 165 and my max is 195. Then after 10 minutes, the Jodi asked, “Are we ready to get started?” I thought, “Crap lady, if we haven’t started yet, I may collapse by the end of the class!” From what I could tell I was the least in shape of anyone in the room. It was nuts!
I was struggling, breathing deeply, face red as a beet, getting dizzy, seeing grey and maybe black. I looked like a buffoon, but I kept going. My arms and legs were flailing around, at one point I lost all control of the motion of my legs on each karate kick, I was just throwing my legs in the air willy-nilly. I walked out 60 minutes later a hot mess. It was the longest 60 minute gym class ever.
So a few days later, I went again, and posted up in the front row. My sheer determination to be better said “Do not wuss out, you’d better stay in the front row. Moving to the middle or back would be conceding defeat!” So again, I endured 60 minutes of heart pumping workout. It was murder, and I was real glad no one in the class knew me by name.
But something happened in this class, in the middle of lunges with weights on our shoulders, just when I thought my butt muscles were going to spontaneously combust because they burned so bad, the instructor yelled out, “GET COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE, THAT’S WHERE THE CHANGE HAPPENS! WHEN YOU WALK OUT OF HERE WILL YOU BE ABLE TO TELL YOURSELF THAT WAS THE BEST YOU COULD DO?” And a light went off in my head and I thought, “No I won’t, I know I have about 15% more to give.” Jodi continued yelling over Beyoncé lyrics, “You’re already here, you’re here for 60 minutes, and you may as well get the most out of it!” If I could have OOH-RAHed in the moment, I would have.
Over the next few days I couldn’t stop thinking, get comfortable being uncomfortable. I can do that. After all, any time something magical has happened it’s been in moments that are outside of my comfort zone. For me, life changing break throughs have been when I’ve summed up courage and guts and moxie and energy to say screw it….let’s do this.
Don’t be afraid of that. It won’t feel good every second of the way, but who cares, there’s always an end to the icky feeling and at the end of the icky feeling is pure “aaaahhhhh.”
It’s like driving through downpour and then seeing a rainbow, it’s like giving birth and then getting to hold your baby, it’s like being scared being scared to ask for a raise, doing it anyways and succeeding, it’s like going on a first date with a man who doesn’t respond your regular shtick –being forced to be yourself—and then figuring out he’s the love of your life (yesterday morning we talked about new houses and babies). It’s like forcing yourself to get up off the couch after you get home from work put your bra back on and go out and make friends when you move to a new city, then finding your kindred spirit.
It always take a little courage and you already have all the courage you need, there’s a land of joy out there, waiting for you to enjoy it.
You’re already on this earth; you may as well make the most of it. Are you giving the best you have to offer? On your last day, will you be able to say, I gave it all I had? It matters not that you’re the best in class, all that matters is that you are getting all that you can and all that you want out of your 60 minutes.
Claim Yours
Originally published on 2-18-13
I have grown up in a family that even though we’re well intentioned we’re not always the healthiest. We like many others have fallen into a pattern of celebrating with food and drink and as a bonus since my folks own liquor stores; there’s been plenty of drinking. Each of us had our battles with weight and some of us have been more successful than others but this weekend we handed out our first ever “Most Improved Player” award.
My 25 year old brother Carlos has always been overweight, but since he’s been overweight since I can remember, from my perspective it never felt like such an overwhelming problem. I always thought he’s young; he’ll have time to fix himself up. During high school and parts of college Carlos was active but like most of America he let his health fall by the wayside.
Well about a year ago something clicked in his head and he started to drink less, eat right and workout. Slowly we all saw his transformation first it was -10 pounds, then -20 pounds, then -50 pounds and even -80 pounds.
Last fall when he had dropped 84 pounds he and I went skydiving as a celebration of life and accomplishment. It was truly exhilarating. As an added anxiety bonus, the weight maximum for someone Carlos’ height was 231 and when the sky diving attendance asked him to step on the scale to check his weight we both started at the digital numbers in anticipation and then then verdict was 228! We’re in. Tiger Woods arm pump! We both breathed a sigh of relief and suited up for the sky dive. Then we got nervous about the dive! We were so busy worrying about his weight we had forgotten to worry about dropping from 10,000 feet in the air!
A few weeks later at negative 90 pounds my brothers and our friend and I participated in a Tough Mudder race. It’s a 12 mile obstacle course with 25 military style like obstacles. We trekked through miles of mud, survived 3 electrocution obstacles (yes actual electrocution), scaled 20 foot walls, jumped in pools of water from 30 feet high and swam through ice cold 32 degree water, we felt exhilarated! It was nuts. But, Carlos’ being in shape was crucial to the team. Two people were Life Flighted from the race that day.
Then yesterday at -105 pounds he ran the Livestrong Austin running event and completed his first half marathon! He signed up of his own volition and trained old school with an ipod and some running shoes. Yesterday Carlos finished 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 7 minutes and solidified the age old adage; you can do anything you put your mind to.
What a privilege to see him grow and learn and discover a new found sense of pride and confidence.
To anyone who is out there reading this waiting to take the first step, don’t wait another second. Go reclaim your life. Take it.
Sisses do Vegas
Sometime in December the Sisses and I…wait…have I explained the Sisses yet?
I may have skirted around who the Sisses are but they deserve a detailed explanation, so let’s take a detour.
The Sisses are a motley crew of 4, smart, funny and kind women trying to find their way, propping each other up and pushing each other along to something bigger, better and more fulfilling.
How the Sisses came to be: A few years ago Sis 1 (NP) met Sis 2 (Vanny). Sis 1 and Sis 2 started frequenting the same gym where they met Sis 3 (Poni). Shortly after, I strolled along into the same gym. I’m Sis 4. In my humble opinion, we were all at a time in our lives where we needed female friendship. We needed smart women to bounce things off of who had aspirations, who were fun and kind. In the last few years we have: gone through ups and downs, had t-shirts made, run races together, had countless activity days. We have also survived: relationships, moves, cat fights, tantrums, and being broke. I think we are the luckiest friends around. Hopefully each one of you reading this has the same bond with a few people in your world. We love each other (some days more than others) and we expect the best from each other. Sisses aren’t slackers.
Back on the ranch, last December we decided to go to Vegas for Sis 3’s birthday. Yay! Visions of: spas, decadent food, scantily clad folks walking on the strip, and champagne flowed through my head.
A few weeks before our big trip, Sis 1 called and said, “We’re all set girls! I booked us to go scrambling. Neil (our guide) will pick us up at 8:30am on Sunday.” Huh? 8:30 on a Sunday? Shouldn’t we be going to sleep at 8:30am? And by scrambling do you mean Neil will be scrambling us up some delicious eggs? Negative ghostrider. Sis 1 informed us that scrambling is a method of climbing up rocky faces and ridges without ropes. The bottom line is if one stumbles their face could permanently be plastered all over some rock in Nevada, where eventually a hawk would eat the remnants.
After processing this for about 30 seconds, I said, “great!” I was pumped.
8:30am on Sunday rolled around, which was no problem, because like the awesome women we are, we were in bed, faces washed and teeth brushed by 12:30am the night before. Winners.
Neil picked us up from the hotel and drove us 30 minutes out from the Vegas strip – as we were riding in the car I thought, “either we’re climbing that mountain just up ahead or we’re about to be murdered.” Maybe Neil had watched Pesci in Goodfellas the night before, you never know.
We arrived at our destination, strapped on our backpacks and off we went.
First we were walking over gravel, then over rocks, then we were forced to look down and watch where we were stepping because the rocks became the size of watermelons, then…wait…photo opp!
Then we were really in business. Neil was coaching along, “Use one leg to step up, put your weight on your right hand, now shift all your weight to your left foot, now jump!” Or, “See that shelf (a small rock jutting out no bigger than a small plantain) that is where you are going to put your foot and see that hold (an opening in the rock so small a hamster would take issue living in it) that is where you’re going to put your hand to hold on and get yourself over the rock.” I thought, “WHAT? Am I on candid camera?” So there the four of us went, rock by rock, turn by turn, obstacle by obstacle. We climbed up, we climbed down, and we even opted for the more difficult route (competitive? Maybe.) We climbed an 850ft mountain named Red Cap without ropes or tools, just Neil’s coaching and each other’s encouragement. When we got to the top of Red Cap we signed our name on a small worn tablet with a golf pencil and made our way down, ducking and weaving and squeezing our way through impossible looking holes. See below.
During our descent I said, “I feel incredible, this is so amazing, I am a mountain woman!” Then Sis 2 turned to me and said, “That’s why we’re single…because we keep doing things like this! We realize we don’t need anyone and can keep pushing ourselves!” I thought her statement was brilliant…but that’s for another blog.
From time to time get out of your comfort zone, take a dance class, go to a party alone, climb a mountain or jump out of a plane! You deserve to shake it up a little and feel excitement and growth.
That surge of happiness and empowerment will remind you that you can handle day to day challenges and opportunities with strength and grace.
You are more than capable. I know it.